


Knowing is the Game

by Icy_Hot_Soba



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, Families of Choice, Love/Hate, M/M, These families are twisted., confused love, send help.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icy_Hot_Soba/pseuds/Icy_Hot_Soba
Summary: Destiny has yet to be decided. Finding himself in the midst of Hoshido, severely wouded, Xander is faced with unexpected obstacles. Likewise, Ryouma is on guard duty to watch over a stubborn Nohrian prince. Both quickly find that there is more to war than just Conquest and Birthright. (Heh, see what I did there?)





	1. The Path We Walk On

_A cowardice snake pursues his vulnerable prey while a humble fool watches. “What is it doing?” The fool asks as the coward presses forward, silent like dandelion petals lost in the wind. Closer and closer the snake draws while his prey becomes weaker, bleeding from a deep wound befallen by the fool. Though, when the snake bites, he does not snap at his prey. As the snake hisses, fleeing from his failure, one man falls. With his last words before rest, the fool softly debates,”Why did I save my enemy?”_

Xander found himself awake to a floral scent. Though his head was throbbing, unbeknownst to himself, the scent was distinct yet foreign. As the young prince studied his surroundings, it appeared to him the lavishing room was a guest room of sorts, but nothing reminded him of his homeland, Nohr. From freshly polished furniture to simple yet possibly brittle walls, much like material seen in an ancient foundation, what caught his eye was the doorway in front of him. It was a paper like sliding door. Xander knew the name to this styled door, yet his mind was ill at ease. Of course, this did not stop the determined prince.

As Xander thought, his mind began to race with various words: _flush, bamboo-jute, silhouette._ None of these names quite fit this style of door, yet he could not place a just name to it. Alas, his mind would allow for no more thought provoking conundrums. For the Nohrian royal, the room had begun to spin out of control, forcing him to shut his eyes tightly. Taking in a deep breath, Xander held the breath in his lungs for a second before slowly releasing his air back into the room. It helped calm his mind a bit.

_How did I wind up in this foreign land?_ That was the new question in Xander’s mind. While his eyes stayed shut, the prince replayed the events before he blacked out, as few memories as they were. A long lasting duel with Ryouma, a sudden rush behind his foe, and chilling pain in his left side: those were the extent of his mix matched memories. Xander sighed at his lack of a clear connection to the events. All the crown prince knew for sure was that someone had struck him, but that did not explain why he was currently in a foreign land.

As time grew, the room seized to spin. In his dizziness’ absence, Xander could feel a dull pain in his side where he remembered being stabbed before. Though his body ached, the prince knew nothing would be solved so long as he laid in bed. The Nohrian made an attempt to sit up until a striking pain forced him against the firm, cool bed once again. The sudden action caused Xander to yelp as his breathing immediately became heavy. His hands instinctively gripped his wounded side.

Sweat slowly dripped from Xander’s head, through his flowing blonde locks, and into the absorbent pillow beneath his head. Movement made his pain excruciating, so checking outside of this room was no longer an option. As his pain slowly lessoned with time, Xander’s breathing equally shallowed. Again, the refreshing scent of something floral tingled through the air he breathed. The smell was subtle and hardly present, but it certainly was not the air surrounding Nohr which was normally very dense and muggy.

Then, an epiphany erupted in Xander’s mind. It was certainly an answer, but one rather unsettling to the Nohrian prince. The air held an artificial scent, yet one likely produced to symbolize the culture of this land’s nation. That meant that Xander was currently in some form of important building where this symbolization mattered, though currently residing in a guest room would suggest this is a place where a select number of people would call home. The decadent atmosphere suggested a home of those with wealth. Even though Xander had never smelled this flower before, he was rather certain it was supposed to represent cherry blossoms, flowers lacking an impactful scent.

_Shōji._ Xander’s sapphire eyes darted to the door in front of him as he finally remembered the name he had forgotten moments ago. While often common separately, cherry blossoms and shōji together were well known characteristics inhabiting one nation alone: Hoshido. Disbelief quickly turned to sudden realization, yet there was something the prince still could not understand. Being in the current home of his enemy, wounded or not, general imprisonment meant some form of restraints to ensure the prisoner would not escape as well as a cell of sorts. Why was he not restrained or at least in a dungeon?

Though, maybe visible restraints were not necessary. In Xander’s current condition, he could not defend himself, let alone get out of bed. He was at the mercy of Hoshido. The question now was what Hoshido ventured to gain from his existence in their nation. If leverage was the goal, it was a goal short lived as Xander’s father would never abide to any sort of trade, even at the cost of his crown son’s life. If they wanted intel, that was yet another dead end. The crown prince of Nohr would serve his country to his grave.

As much as Xander dreaded this meeting to come, especially in his wounded state, the Nohrian royal drew his focus toward footsteps closing in. They were heavy and dense but held a slow paced rhythm, which meant only one person would enter. A second symphony of noise accompanied the low rumblings, much higher pitches than the last. This sound was some sort of clinging though one rather familiar to the crown prince. It was that of a sword slapping its barings with every set of footsteps. Only two Hoshidan royals chose to enter battle with a sword in hand. As the footsteps grew to a halt, Xander kept his eyes plastered to the doorway as he questioned who would enter: Sumeragi, Hoshido’s current king, or Ryouma, the King’s first born?

Though one of the two men Xander knew it would be, the young man’s appearance was foreign to his Nohrian eyes. Hoshidan casual attire called for a unisex kimono while in Nohr a simple button up shirt and slacks would suffice. Sporting a vibrant red kimono, accented in white with golden ties, was none other than the prince of Hoshido himself. The kimono represented his family crest, two golden, equal-armed crosses woven into the upper half of the crown princes kimono on either side of his chest. With a freshly drawn hakama baring the prince’s priced sword Rajinto, Ryouma wore pure white tabi socks and setta sandals to match, but his signature hair cascading below his knees was tied loosely with a red velvet ribbon.

As Ryouma entered the room, an immediate tension leveled the atmosphere. Both princes kept their eyes locked onto the other as Ryouma made his way toward Xander. Hoshido’s crown prince casually strolled to the far end of the room where a wooden chair Xander had not noticed before awaited. After picking up the fraile chair by its backing, Ryouma brought it closer to the bed Xander was currently enslaved to. The short yet burly man set the chair down, backing toward Xander, and proceeded to sit down in a way most would consider backwards. Resting both arms on the top of said chair, Ryouma spoke to relieve the air,”What are you gawking at?”

“It is a toss up between your dress or lackadaisical nature at the moment.”

“Says the man disinclined to a bed...and it's a kimono.”

Their short conversation lead to nothing, as most diplomatic conferences do. Through bleak air, both royals now chose to keep their vision apart, awaiting the other to speak. Being in a foreign land made Xander distressed though Ryouma was much more strayed from a question that had been bothering him for three days; the question that had erupted from a conflict abstrucking the duel of two royals. On his way to the guest room both men inhabited, Ryouma thought of multiple ways to word his question, yet sitting here now, in front of the enemy who saved his life mere days ago, not a one of those questions came to mind. All the Hoshidan prince could manage to ask was,”Why?”

The question caught Xander off guard. _Why what?_ He chose to remain silent instead of answering. The room grew still again, a familiar feeling both men came to know quickly. Ryouma broke the silence again with a more defined inquiry,“Why did you stop your ally from finishing me? You had the prime opportunity to-”

“Do not align me with that snake or the cowardice action he failed to accomplish.”

While Xander scowled at the thought of Iago, his father’s most trusted advisor, his defensive nature was truely drawn from his lack of understanding to the situation entirely. The matter of the fact was that he _did_ miss an opportunity. Whether it lead to Ryouma’s death or capture, it was a Nohrian loss nonetheless, and one he would get backlash from if he ever made it home. Iago surely made his assassination attempt seem like Xander was a complete traitor. At this point, Xander was not sure if he could persuade Garon to believe anything but treachery on his part which meant he would have to return home with a decent case to sway his father’s judgement. Even worse, this fiasco threw him in enemy hands with a severe wound of his own. As events had past unfolded, Xander could not help but contemplate where his loyalty truly lied.

Though, Xander was not the only one contemplating this same situation. In truth, it had been on Ryouma’s mind since the incident first occurred. Never once had an enemy acted so rash, a Nohrian no less. After years of a feud between nations, this was the first act of humanity either side had shown the other. Regardless, after three days of this weighing on his mind, Ryouma’s patience had grown thin,”Answer the question.”

At this moment, it would have been easy to lie or retort with a smart-ass comment, but what would that lead to? More useless bantering or Xander being thrown in their dungeon; probably both to be fair. In either case, they were all situations the Nohrian Prince wished to avoid, but did he really have an answer as to why he acted so out of character? In truth, none came to mind, yet that would surely upset Ryouma more. Xander let out a small sigh before speaking,”It was mere instinct and nothing more. That duel should have ended with one of our blades, not that of a third party’s.”

“For once, I’d have to agree with you.”

“Send word to a trader. This will surely make news.”

Firsts were continuing to present themselves today. Though against their will, Ryouma let out a snort, and Xander smirked. If circumstances had been different, maybe these two could have been friends fighting side by side in a war against a common enemy. Though, through circumstances, anything is possible.

Of course, neither man had room to show their endearing nature. The room settled with daft air as both princes frowned. Ryouma stood with a loud exhale. He set the frail, wooden chair in its original location before heading toward the door for a swift exit.

“What are you planning to do with me?”

Ryouma paused with his hand against the sliding door,”In truth, I’m not sure.”

The Hoshidan royal left immediately after speaking, contemplating his most recent conversation. While he thought it would bring him closure, it did just the opposite. Though for Xander, he was met with even more questions toward what his future would behold. What neither prince could foretell was how dependent on one another their lives would soon become.


	2. Test of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With conflict drawing near, Ryouma takes it upon himself to visit his foe who has become Hoshido's first well behaved prisoner.

A long week passed with little gain for either side. The large scaled skirmish just West of Hoshido kept their nation busy while Nohr pressed forward, warranting word from their missing prince. With the war so taxing, Sumeragi chose to keep Xander’s stay in Hoshido known to merely a trusted few. Though knowing his whereabouts, Ryouma had yet to see Xander since they spoke of their interrupted duel. 

As for Nohr’s absent general, his time was spent on learning Hoshidan culture. Even though confined to a room, a bookshelf filled with various foreign texts made the week go smooth and kept his mind from thinking up every possible confrontation his future may hold. However, today marked the princes’ next meeting. Ryouma made his way down the elongated hallway that lead to the room temporarily being used as a confinement cell. The Hoshidan temple rarely seemed so drear as it did today, in this hallway. Maybe it was the presence of a Nohrian royal that kept him restless or the tides of nights without rest as war raged so close to home.

Though definitely weighing factors, there was something else that perplexed Ryouma. As he neared Xander’s quarters, the Hoshidan prince could not help but examine his enemy’s behavior this past week. Expectation was that Xander would have fought back, attempted to escape with every warranting second as his wound began to heal, yet not once did he act so. In fact, the prince showed quite courteous nature toward the handful of servants allowed into his room. _Must be a ploy._

Standing in front of the sliding door, Ryouma paused as he took a deep breath. _What am I becoming?_ To think so little of a man without knowing anything about him bothered the Hoshidan prince. The only side of Xander he had ever seen was while on a battlefield, which showed little of one’s true personality or intentions, only their survival instinct. Judging someone from mere confrontation alone was not the man Ryouma wished to become. He refused to become a product of this war.

Ryouma slide the shōji, revealing an empty, made bed. The samurai immediately reached for his Raijinto, keeping a firm grip on its hilt as he scanned his surroundings. The room was empty, Xander absent, but not a single item seemed out of place aside from an opened book on the bedside table. Of course, as he scanned his area, Ryouma caught sight of a closed door leading to the room’s private bathroom. The blind prince simply rolled his eyes with immediate relief, closing the room’s only entrance as he sat down on the wooden chair he had a week before, which still laid where it had been.

Just around the corner, Xander was placing a bandage over his healing wound. The wound still ached, but it had ceased enough for him to walk without doubling over. Upon hearing a sliding door, Xander hurried to put the last bit of tape on top of the off white bandage to keep it in place. As Xander was not expecting any company, he had not felt the need to carry his shirt in with him. _Crap._ His realization left him at a bit of an impatition. One final look at himself in the mirror, a hope that the person awaiting him was not female, and he exited the room.

“My apologies. I was not...Oh, it’s only you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I had thought you were a maid.”

Should I be offended? The thought crossed Ryouma’s mind for a moment. Though, Xander’s demeanor had certainly changed, seeming much less skeptical than the first time they spoke. As Ryouma watched the Nohrian scan his quarters, he could not help but stare at a large scar ranging from Xander’s mid-back to his right hip. It seemed as though a third or so of the mark was still hidden by the prince’s slacks. It was a large mark that was uneven, as if the weapon that had struck him were three spikes connected by a blade. At the moment, Ryouma could not recall a weapon of sorts, but his stare did not go unnoticed.

Upon entering the bedroom, Xander had been more focused on finding a shirt to wear. Enemy or not, it was indecent to be so casual outside of his home in front of others. Unfortunately, maids had taken his only clean shirt this morning to wash and mend. It seemed there was nothing he could do now, and with that no longer on his mind, Xander was more prevalent to his surroundings. As such, he quickly felt the Hoshidan’s stare, cocking his head toward Ryouma upon realization. Judging by the height his eyes had been, Xander immediately knew what the Hoshidan royal had been examining. The Nohrian prince quickly spun and curtly averted from any conversation involving his mark,”Why are you here?”

Along with the question bestowed an unsettling tension in the room again, one much like Ryouma’s first visit. The Hoshidan royal rose his view of sight to Xander, letting out a small sigh,”In this pressing time, you’ve been more than cooperative. I’m confused as to why.”

“So, you have come all this way to simply question why I have yet to make an attempt to escape. Has the war really grown so dull?”

“If I were in your situation, even I would utilize an opportunity if it had presented itself to me.”

“What would I gain from leaving in my current state? Unless your defenses are drastically weakened from the war, I doubt a blonde with pale of skin as I would be hard to find amongst your city.”

While Hoshido’s defenses were not as strong as they normally were, there were still plenty of guards surrounding the castle as well as walking the streets. Escape for a Nohrian was practically impossible, as Xander knew. If not for Caste Shirasagi’s central location, his appearance alone would make him stand out in any crowd of Hoshidans. Xander sat on the made bed as he exhaled slowly. His wound ached more than when he were resting from his movement, even as little as it was. This injury alone kept his stay at Hoshido secure. The Nohrian glanced at his battlefield foe, scanning his facial features. For once, Ryouma’s face was fully visible without any sort of armor in the way. Only a single strand of hair refused to stay with the rest, making for a small shadow spliting Ryouma’s forehead. His eyes were clear with the shade of mocha, and his skin was tanned, but not too tan. There was not a single feature on the man’s face Xander found out of place. If circumstances were different, Xander may have pursued this fantasy.

However, Ryouma’s mind was far too perplexed by the Nohrian’s response to catch onto his gaze. A small creek in the bed frame just below the bed’s mattress left Ryouma in a trance of thought. Xander’s words were right, but it was little of a reason not to attempt returning home. To him, Xander was withholding some sort of information from him. Ryouma turned his gaze to Xander’s as the thought crossed his mind that maybe the Nohrian prince was in the process of conducting a plan of his own.

Though, when Ryouma meet with Xander’s gaze, his mind went blank. _Why is he looking at me like that?_ For the first time, Ryouma saw just how blue Xander’s eyes really were. They were unlike any shade he had ever seen; the first object that came to mind were sapphires. What brought out his eyes so much was the paleness of Xander’s skin. Ryouma was sure that if he held paper up to the man, his skin would fair whiter. The longer Ryouma stared, the more Ryouma regretted coming to see Xander in the first place.

The Hoshidan felt his face burn as he quickly stood,”I must be going.”

“You wanted to say something, did you not?”

As if Xander were wrong, Ryouma headed toward the door, but his strides quickly halted before sliding the shōji. The prince turned his head to the side, enough for the right side of his face to become visible to Xander. Ryouma let out a sigh before he spoke,”Tomorrow, you will stand by my father and I. We will have an audience with Garon.”

“You honestly believe my father will give you _anything_ for my return?” Xander spat as he shook his head. The Nohrian knew this truth, that his life was worth nothing of value in his father’s eyes, but having to admit it in words hurt worse than a knife’s wound. It was a piercing sound that resonated in his ears, in his thoughts. All Xander could manage was a half hearted smile as he glared at the Hoshidan prince.

Through this crooked smile, Ryouma could see Xander’s pain. He could hear the call of a broken heart in Xander’s question; he could feel the years of agony whellowing in his foes’ soulless eyes. _Should I tell Xander he’s wrong about our plan, or wait for him to find out tomorrow?_

“Promise me one thing, Ryouma.”

As his question went interrupted, Ryouma played along,”...and why should I promise anything to you?”

“Set aside your pride, as I am for this moment. Promise that my siblings will have no harm come to them in this exchange, and I will cooperate with whatever Sumeragi’s plans are.”

This was not the act of a crown prince but one of an elder brother seeking help for his dysfunctional family. In such a dire time, when he was practically defenseless in a land not of his birth, his thoughts were not of his own. Ryouma could not help but see truth in Xander’s words as if situations had been reversed, he would have likely done the same.

“I swear-”

“On your honor.”

Ryouma turned to shout at the blatant remark, but upon sight of Xander, no words were spoken. The Nohrian kept his austere expression as he awaited a response. It was much for anyone to ask of him, even his family would not throw such a request at him. Though Xander was not family nor in a position to demand such things, yet he had done just that. Resting his dominant hand on his hip, Ryouma let out a sigh before speaking,”Do you know what you’re asking of me?”

“Yes.”

“Then, it seems my hands are tied. I swear on my honor as a samurai that no harm will come to your siblings.”


	3. A Meeting of Sorts

Dressing in armor would be far too taxing in Xander’s current state, so he chose to wear the purple undershirt and slacks normally accompanying his armor. Though, dressed so casually for a war zone left him feeling vulnerable. Standing now, beside two appointed guards, Xander finally felt like a true prisoner, barred and secluded in this middle ground. He recognized the battlefield well, just not from this side.

Being walked through their camp like a lost child, Xander scanned the small rows of khaki tents and random groupings of Hoshidan soldiers. Most tents had been emptied while leftover troops laid in waiting. The Nohrian prince felt his share of scorns and scowls, all with just causes of course. Xander knew he deserved every one of them, and he would burn each glare into his memory.

As Xander neared a much larger tent marked with the Hoshidan crest at its entrance, he knew today would finally be the day he formally met Sumeragi, the Hoshidan King. Countless rumors surrounded the lands. Some said the king was as fair as he was ruthless, others plagued his speech with that of the common folk. The only image painted for Xander since youth had been that of his father’s words. Garon claimed Sumeragi was the reason Nohr suffered unrelenting strife and hardships, but if Xander had come to learn anything over the course of his life, it was never to fully trust the words of a king.

The guard nearest Xander took a step inside and then to the side, standing idle by the open entrance. The second guard motioned his head inward, instructing Xander to follow. Xander abided, staying a step behind the soldier as he was brought to the far end of a large table. The sturdy cut mahogany displayed a map of the battlefield with small wax figurines marking soldiers and tents across it.

On the far side of the table, a fairly tall man stood with his back to them as he spoke to a third soldier. Though, the man was no mystery. His hair spiraled in a large, rugged mess stopping just below his knees; it was custom for Hoshidan men of the royal line to never cut their hair, the only exception being that which grew on their face. When this tradition started was lost in history, but the Hoshidan line chose to continue it nonetheless. Sumeragi turned to face Xander as he waved a hand toward the guards,”Leave us.”

The three guards promptly left, yet the sound of footsteps did not leave with them. Instead, a pair of hefty steps traveled into the room and stopped beside Xander. This was the princes’ third meeting outside of a war zone. Ryouma promptly removed the rope restraining Xander’s hands as the Nohrian watched with vigilant eyes. Not once did the Hoshidan prince lift his gaze, between yesterday and his father’s plans for the future, there was little to rejoice.

However, this gave Ryouma perfect sight to Xander’s bruised wrists. Both had turned a mix of faint colors: purple, black and blue. The rope seemed to be tied loose enough not to leave any marks, and Xander had only worn them for a few hours. Even so, Ryouma quickly stepped toward his father, dropping the butchered rope onto the table as he did.

Xander pulled the ends of his sleeves as far as they would go, covering up most of the bruising in the process. It seemed odd to release a prisoner after ordering your guards to leave. Though, _everything_ about his imprisonment had been odd. Either the Hoshidans were overly trusting, or this was a ploy to gain his trust. Xander would choose to believe it was likely the later.

“Seeing as Garon has promptly declined to meet with us today, we’ll have to resort to Plan B,” Sumeragi stated as his gaze lowered to the map between them. Nohrian troops had been called back to the Northern Ridge separating the battlefield late last night, and even though a pair of spies were sent to discover why, Hoshido was blind to Garon’s reasoning. Sumeragi was not prepared to send his troops beyond the ridge without some sort of intel, but that was not the reason behind today’s council.

Something seemed off about the revised meeting. Judging Sumeragi’s character was impractical as Xander had never formally met him, but the Hoshidan prince was another story. Even though they had fought for years, Xander felt he learned more about his rival in the couple of meetings they had prior to today, yet the one take away Xander had obtained both on and off the battlefield was that Ryouma always met his opponent’s eyes. Not once had Ryouma raised his eyes from the roughly drawn map before him, not even to glance at his father. Unfortunately, Xander was in no situation to confront the prince, so he kept his mouth silent as he awaited Sumeragi’s explanation.

“I’ll keep it short. My son seems to believe you can be reasoned with, so I’m willing to propose a treaty.”

“Save your breath. Garon will never accept a compromise.”

“A treaty with you, Xander.”

If that was supposed to omit any doubt, Sumeragi’s words did just the opposite. Xander’s brows furrowed in confusion as he contemplated what the Hoshidan’s could gain from a prince's treaty. It would be meaningless in any sense, unless they wished for a treaty of commerce which would still be pointless with Xander currently a prisoner in Hoshido. Even _if_ there was some sort of gain for them, Xander would never sign a piece of paper behind father’s back. Paper was far too traceable.

The Hoshidan prince finally raised his eyes to Xander. In truth, this idea was heavily impacted by their meetings and the choice Xander made on the battlefield that lead to his extended stay. After years of useless squabbles, he yearned to live in a land free of war, a land where he could raise his son and not have to worry of a surprise siege on his home. Ryouma stepped closer to Xander as he pleaded his case,”You want what is best for Nohr and your siblings, so you must see that this war is only doing the opposite. We just want to compromise with a reasonable king."

“Are you…” Xander began but was not able to finish the question. It was obvious to comprehend their implications. Garon was anything but a _reasonable_ king, yet dethroning him was a feat much closer to a miracle. The Nohrian prince sported an almost psychotic smile thinking of the memory of a day so deranged it seemed like something straight from a child’s nightmares. A faint chuckle forced its way through Xander’s throat as he continued to speak with treacherous words,”You speak of killing him as if he were a wild boar, but that man...that _thing_ is not of this world. I tried, once, to raise a coup, but my attempts were futile. Lay your sword down before you lose your entire country to his blood lust.”

In that moment, Ryouma did not see his enemies words as a threat or warning. He saw what was left of a beaten soul’s desperate plea. It was for that reason he did not holler at Xander for his fanatical tone in front of his father. Instead, Ryouma stood by his hopes for the future,”If we work together, we can stop Garon’s tyranny-”

“He can not be stopped!” Xander yelled as he met Ryouma’s quizzical stare. Those innocent, determined eyes could never imagine the horrors of that night. Xander wore the same pair the night of the coup, the night Xander lost all hope for a brighter future. Living was a luxury. What Xander and his siblings did was _survive_ , and he planned to keep surviving for their sake.

“Think the offer over, but I guarantee it is in your best interest to accept it,” Sumeragi stated as he strolled out of the tent. Though the tone in which he spoke carried exactly as he planned it to. It was detrimental, suggesting Sumeragi would escalate matters if he had to. Matters like this separated the weak from kings.

Xander awaited the sound of misplaced dirt to cease before he glared at Ryouma. Sumeragi was hiding something that both he and his son knew, likely something to force Xander’s hand into accepting their deal. Drawing his own conclusion would waste their time, but judging from Ryouma’s dampened face, there was no point in pursuing an answer.

“My father would never follow through with it…”

“With what?”

“I never meant for it to-”

“Stop beating around the bush.”

Before speaking, Ryouma dropped his eyes to the floor even though he could feel Xander’s cool gaze beating holes into the side of his skull. Last night while at dinner with his family, Ryouma had spoken without thinking. His immediate regret showed, but spoken words can not be replaced. With a heavy sigh, Ryouma lifted his head to speak,”If you do not comply, my father will call for the heads of the remaining Nohrian royals.”

It took Xander a second to process those words, but upon realization, he raised his arms in front of him with either wrist pressed firmly together. Xander shifted his gaze from Ryouma to the map before him, staring at the wax figures scattered across the table. As Xander’s eyes shifted past a field of red, he abruptly stopped at three blue figures standing behind the battlefield. They were larger than the rest of the figures, one atop a horse while another rode a dragon with the third standing behind them; it was his vow to protect _them_ that made his reaction so simple. Xander stared at the three familiar figures as he continued,”Restrain me, and take me to a cell. Tell Sumeragi I decline his offer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took SO long to get out. For a while, I just couldn't find the motivation to keep it going, but I'm glad to say I'm back to writing it. (No idea when the next chapter will come out, but I promise I won't make you all wait a year again! ^-^)


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